


Sun, Sea and Shorts

by anxiousgeek



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Humour, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-28
Updated: 2008-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousgeek/pseuds/anxiousgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boat smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun, Sea and Shorts

“This is what I wanted to do you know,” Jack said, eyes closed. Sam opened hers, and looked across the boat at him, “when I retired.”

They were floating on the sea, anchored far from the coast-line, but still able to see it. The weather was calm and bright, the sun warming them, and the gentle rhythm of the water rocking them into a deep state of relaxation. This had been exactly what she had needed, not that she was quite ready to tell him that just yet. He was terrible when he was right about something. Especially if it concerned her well-being.

“You wouldn't move to the cabin?” She asked.

“In the winter maybe. Hole up there until the sun came out again,” he looked across at her, “but a boat would be nice. Lounge about in the sun, take some tourists out fishing.”

“Do you some fishing yourself...” Sam put in.

“Yes.” She smiled and laid her head back, closing her eyes again.

“This is nice.” She said quietly.

“Very.” He was watching her now, she could tell by the tone in his voice, he was a secret voyeur, she'd figured that out a little while but hadn't confronted him about it yet. He watched her often, she had caught him watching her sleep, watching her work, in the shower, in the kitchen. Once he had turned up at her house as a surprise, had slipped inside with a sound and had caught her masturbating. He had watched her for a full five minutes before he'd made himself known, before he'd walked into her bedroom, stripping, hard and aching.

She wasn't much of a voyeur herself, but loved that Jack was. Loved it when he was watching her, like he was taking care of her, wherever she was. And it was sexy as hell.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked. She smiled, eyes still closed.

“You. Watching me.”

“Oh? You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one you get just before you do something very bad.” There was amusement in his voice and she smiled.

“I was thinking,” she paused, rolling off the wooden bench on the port side of the boat, letting the pillows and blankets fall after her, and crossed the small deck, “of something very good actually.” She straddled him, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the lips.

He grinned, wriggling beneath her, and she felt him thrust up a touch. He was so easy, she thought, rubbing herself against him to build up a little friction and frustration. He groaned and she laughed, so easy.

He looked around them seeing nothing but blue sea and blue sky, and kissed her back, harder, a hand on the back of her neck to keep her there. She was smiling against his lips, her tongue flicking out to coax his open. When he didn't, she put her hands flat on his chest and pushed up, forcing him to let go of her.

“Play nice Jack.” She warned.

“Or what?”

“Or I push you into the water and I play alone.”

“I can play nice.” He said quickly. She smiled and kissed him hard on the lips, forcing her tongue into his mouth to play and taste. She moaned, moving her hands to run up under his t-shirt. His hands found their way up her blouse to smooth over the soft skin there, making her moan again.

She was just as easy.

He pushed her bra up, cupping her breasts with his hands, rubbing each nipple with his thumbs, She groaned, leaning back a little and letting him play with her body. God his hands, she should've let him grope her years ago, just on the odd occasion, just so he could make her feel so very perfect like this. He sat up and licked a nipple, putting a hand on her hip to hold her still. She squirmed under his mouth.

“Oh, Jack, I love that.” She groaned as he alternated between licking and nipping.

“I know.” He grinned and pulled her down for a kiss, slipping his hand around to the front of her shorts.

“Ah-ah.” She pulled his hand away and held it tight, her hands going to his shorts, forcing the elasticated waist down past his erection. She loved vacations with Jack, if only because he never wore underwear. She didn't know why, that 'he didn't see the point' wasn't reason enough for her but he always went commando.

It was a lot of fun in restaurants.

“So hard already Jack.” She teased, running her thumb up his shaft, circling the head with her index finger. He was biting his lip but she could wait to make him moan, groan and cry out her name in total desperation.

“And I bet your soaking through your panties.”

“Not wearing any.” She grinned and popped the buttons open on her shorts, struggling out of them while still straddling him, still running her fingers over his dick. He groaned, watching her hips wriggle about, wrapping his hand around his dick and squeezing hard, moving his hand up and down slowly until she slapped him on the wrist.

“Play nice,” he admonished. She grinned, and kicked her shorts into the water, “I'm not going in to get them.” He told her with a squeak as she grabbed his erection roughly and guided him slowly into her body.

He was right though, she was wet, and as she slowly sank down onto him she groaned. She loved this feeling, the first filling of her body, her insides fluttering in reaction, adjusting to him. The look of bliss on his face.

“God dammit Sam, how can you be so tight.” She settled on top of him, his dick deep inside her.

“Pelvic floor exercises.” She groaned, wriggling on his lap to try and force him deeper. She made sharp 'nuh' noise when he grabbed her hips and thrust up into her body and anything either of them wanted to say was forgotten, lost as she started to move, pressing her hands down on his chest, moving her hips back and forth, his dick moving slowly in and out of her, the wet heat of her centre creating a fire in both of them.

He held onto her hips, digging his fingertips into her sides, holding on as she moved, rode him. She had to close her eyes, to concentrate on moving, on the rhythm of their bodies because the friction and pleasure threatened to throw her off balance.

“More,” he grunted, she smiled, eyes still closed.

“Very. Funny. Jack.”

Just a few hours earlier, their positions had been reversed and she had been so demanding of him, just the memory of it turned her on, memories of him turned her on because he was good at this.

Damn him.

She sped up, increased the rhythm, trying to get more friction form the movements of their bodies together, but the closer she got to the edge, the wetter she became and ohgoditdidn'tmatter all of a sudden. He grabbed her hips and started to thrust up hard into her body, his dick hitting deeper, making her body scream.

She hated some of the noises that escaped her, the small part of her brain that was still functioning was aware of the moans and 'eh' noises she made while riding Jack O'Neill. This morning she had been groaning out long 'ohs' as Jack had thrust into her from behind. He never commented on it though, she suspected he was always too far gone to either hear them or remember them later.

She moved faster and he thrust harder, every pull out of her body causing her to exhale a soft 'oh', every inward thrust, causing her to moan out an 'eh' noise. He was grunting, and she hated the sound but loved the effort and energy behind it, and oh god she wanted more, she was close, but she wanted more. Her legs were burning and her heart racing and her whole body was on fire but it wasn't enough, it was never enough.

Not just yet.

She shifted to try and taking him deeper, making him moan and herself cry out and she clasped her hands in his, pushing against them and she thrust up, up hard into her body.

She cried out once more before loosing her balance, tipping over the side and falling into the water, pulling Jack in with her.

The splash of two bodies falling into the sea went up the side of the small boat and onto the deck. The feeling of the cold water, on tow bodies worked up to a furnace was a shock to their systems and when they emerged from the blue they caught their breath, panting in silence.

She wanted to laugh, it was there, but she couldn't get her breath and Jack didn't give her chance, swimming towards her and kissing her hard, pushing her back through the water to push her up against the side of the boat. Within moments he was back inside the warmth of her body, her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands in her hair as he continued to kiss her. He built up a quick rhythm of thrusts through the cold water immediately, both having been so close before and she lifted her arms up to hold onto the edge of the boat, bracing herself against the side.

They were silent in the water, whatever joviality there had been had gone with the desperation for completion. Falling off the boat had made their bodies think for a moment that they wouldn't be able to feel that moment, the screaming blinding 'oh fuck' moment and their minds were controlled by the need for that moment.

He moved as hard as he could, slamming her back against the boat, causing little waves of water to circle out from them, her breasts bobbing up and down in the water, nipples hard and visible through the soaked cotton and thin lace. She was making an 'uh' noise with every inward thrust, drowned out by the thud of her back hitting the wood and the splash of the water. She wasn't aware of any of it though, just the feel of him inside her, and the water around her and when she came she was sure she was going to die.

His name came out as a garbled cry of 'uh-ack', as she bucked away from him, once, twice, unable to take any more until he held her still with one hand on her hip, thrusting into her shaking body as hard as ever.

“Fuck Sam.” The words were clear as he came, thrusting sporadically into her tight body, the contrast between her heat at his centre and the water around him, killing him as he spilt into her, shaking with her, panting hard.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck.” She gasped out.

“What?” He was panting onto her cheek.

“We fell off the boat.” He chuckled between gasps for breath, and kissed her cheek, her jaw, licking the salt water from her lips.

“I know.”

She whimpered when he pulled away, his dick slipping from her body and swam back a little. She let go of the side of the boast, stretching her arms and she trod the water.

“I'll help you back in the boat in a second, I just gotta get our shorts.”

She laughed then and watched Jack O'Neill with a bare ass and a black t-shirt, swim through the water, after his own shorts that had drifted a little too close to the beach for his liking, or so she assumed from the way he grumbled about it. There was nothing better than this for her well-being, she knew that, she wasn't going to admit it but she knew it and by time he was back, throwing two pairs of sopping shirts onto the deck she was almost hysterical.

“Next time Carter, you can swim after the clothes.”

“Next time we'll rent a bigger boat.”


End file.
